


Malware

by deadwires



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Drugging, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Humiliation, Jack is a bastard, M/M, Mind Break, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Port Play, sexual slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadwires/pseuds/deadwires
Summary: Jack has an interesting proposal for Rhys involving a special kind of upload into his cyber-port. Eager to please, Rhys agrees. Sort-of.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 147





	Malware

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinning_cupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinning_cupcake/gifts).



> Written for Maestro in the kink meme on the Hyperion HQ BL 18+ discord server.

Steel restraints bite against Rhys' wrists, the plush headrest of the chair keeping him from leaning back too far. Nerves settle uneasily in his stomach as his eyes dart around the room, coming to rest on Jack's grinning visage from the other side of the desk.

"Comfortable?" He teases, running his fingers over the handcuffs. Rhys opens his mouth, but Jack doesn't bother to let him answer. "Good. I'm so glad you volunteered to try this out for me, pumpkin. Such a brave boy." Jack's hand is condescending as it tousles Rhys' hair, but he leans into it nonetheless.

A deft finger teasingly traces the rim of his port, then, and elicits a shiver from the haplessly bound boy. Rhys' eyes are half-lidded despite his nerves, soothed _just_ the slightest bit by any scrap of affection. Jack had that intoxicating effect on him. It's probably the reason he ended up in this situation in the first place.

He licks his lips anxiously, mismatched eyes wide as Jack steps away to thoughtfully thumb through wires bedecking the console on the wall. "I-is this," Rhys pipes up, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. "Is this going to hurt, Jack?"

Jack laughs.

"Oh, princess." Jack selects a deep violet wire, an intimidating electric prong gleaming at the end. Rhys goes pale. "Even if it _does_ , you'll still do it for me, right?"

Feeling queasy, Rhys nods.

Painful attention from Jack was still attention to Jack. God, his kingdom for some fucking self-preservation. Or self-respect. Instead, he grips the armrests tight, bravely facing whatever hell was in store as Jack's echoing footsteps grow closer.

Jack's laughter is low and husky in his ear, close enough to brush the shell. Rhys' eyes flutter open - he hadn't realized he'd been squeezing them shut. "You're cute when you're scared, kiddo."

A soft click is the only warning Rhys gets before the prong is harshly shoved _deep_ into his exposed port. He yelps, tears springing up immediately as metal rakes his raw nerves. Electricity comes then, sparking from his temple down his spinal column. Eyes blink rapidly out of his control as his optic nerve spasms, vision going hazy. Rhys cries out, panicked tears creeping down his cheeks. "J-Jack.. _Jack_ , it's too much!"

Jack tuts in disapproval, jamming the prong far deeper than it's meant to go. "Come on, Rhysie. You're a good boy, right?" A cruel kiss to his cheek, tongue peeking out to lap at his tears. "I know you can take it."

Rhys trembles, every nerve in his body suddenly alight with overwhelming sensations. His chest heaves with abortive breaths that never quite reach his lungs, quickly hyperventilating. Sighing, Jack strikes him brutally across the face. "Jesus christ, kid, it's not that bad." He rubs his thumb over the base of his neck, as if soothing a pet he's just punished. "Calm the fuck down and enjoy it."

A gutted whimper leaves Rhys, his cheek stinging red. He forces himself to calm with great difficulty, sucking slow, measured breaths til he evens out. Rides out the myriad sensations as they leap through his body rapidly, cold, heat, ache, and then, _finally_ , pleasure. Rhys' mouth forms a soft 'o' as it takes him by surprise, simmering heat forming low in his belly and slowly spilling outward. Endorphins flood directly to the pleasure center of his brain and he's Gone. It takes him with a rolling shudder and a moan, and he's rutting against his own thigh in the chair. Drool escapes the corner of Rhys' mouth as his pupils blow wide, the cybernetic one flashing in spasmodic colors before settling on a deep violet glow.

"Attaboy." Jack purrs, delighted. He strokes his thighs leisurely, never quite breaching his cock. Leans over him too-close, cornering him in with his body. Rhys strains towards the warmth of his him, desperate for touch.

" _Jack_..." Rhys pants, arousal clear in his voice. Aphrodisiacs pump through his veins, course like sultry fingers along his spine. His skin is rosy and he feels overly warm, receptive, like he could take a cock or twenty without being satisfied at all. He's a pretty sight like this, Jack decides. Pleading, flushed from cheeks to throat, the glow of his hijacked eye spilling across his face. The boy arches wildly off the chair, spreading his legs as far as he's able with the armrests crowding him. His cock is aching hard in it's confines, tenting in the front of his pants. Jack's palm creeps up lazily to cup his bulge, making him cry out.

"Mm.. Sensitive, aren't we, baby?" Jack teases, squeezing him like he could do this all day. Jack had planned for that, in fact. Cleared his whole fucking schedule so he could spend some quality time with poor Rhysie, here. So generous of him to volunteer, after all. He's pleased to note that Rhys is already damp at the front of his pants, thumbing over it with a chuckle. Rhys bashfully tucks his blushing face into his shoulder, as if he could somehow hide from him. "God. Look at you, kiddo. Barely touched you and you're about to blow. Isn't that right?"

Jack slaps his bulge harshly to prove his point, and Rhys immediately comes in his pants with a choked sob. He pulls away mid-orgasm, leaving him rutting desperately against empty air. Jack guffaws like he thinks it's the funniest shit he's ever seen, ruffling Rhys' hair mockingly. "Aww, look at that! You came all over yourself. That's so _cute_ , pumpkin."

Rhys whines, barely registering the condescension. His world was a hazy violet dream, eyelashes drooping low as he heaves and drips against the chair. Sweat slicks his skin and he feels pleasantly filthy, damp hair plastered to his forehead, lips slick with drool. He hasn't had nearly enough yet, and Jack doesn't let him rest for long. A pocket knife is produced from Jack's thigh holster, Rhys jolting slightly when he hears it click open. The blade makes short work of Rhys' pants, cutting them away with ease 'til he's exposed from the waist down. Jack quirks his brow. Rhys' poor cock is already twitching hard against his belly again. " _Already?_ Jeez, kid."

Reaching into his back pocket, Jack produces a small bullet-shaped toy. A switch flicks and it begins to buzz ominously, Rhys lifting his head dizzily to stare it down. Jack spits on it haphazardly to lube it up, reaching down to grasp Rhys' ass cheek and spread him open. He traces the rim with it first, watching as Rhys' hips jerk enthusiastically at the sensation. Jack's voice is a low, taunting husk. "Mm. Desparation's delicious, kiddo." Jack slides the toy inside Rhys' needy hole, meeting with surprisingly little resistance. Arousal's a hell of a drug. Well, arousal, and the metric fuckton of digistructed aphrodisiacs he'd just unloaded into his port.

It doesn't take long. The CEO toys with the settings as he pleases, drinking in the delectable play of expressions across Rhys' pretty face as the vibration wreaks havoc from inside him. He bounces against it as if he's got something substantial inside him, and Jack finds it almost adorable. Feeling generous, Jack grasps Rhys's cock, stroking him at a meandering pace that's _maddening_ with Rhys' firelit nerves. Rhys' vision is tunneling, his head swimming as his whole body is reduced to a vessel of pleasure. He hardly remembers being a person at all. Gasping moans come with every breath now, quickly growing incomprehensible as he praises Jack's name. "Jack.. _Jack_.. JackJack J-, Jhh-"

Jack rewards him with a delectable twist on his cock, and Rhys comes again, spilling over with a snap of his hips and a wrenching cry. Jack jerks him clear past overstimulation, til his cock aches and drips slow into his palm and Rhys begs him to stop from above. Jack laughs roughly, giving his sore cock a playful slap instead. Rhys gasps sharply, one last gush escaping him at the rough treatment. Jack hums in his throat, amused. "Cute lil' thing."

The CEO draws up his soiled hand, cum trailing between his fingers. A devilish smile plays on his lips as he rises, holding it expectantly in front of Rhys' face. "Now, look what you did, Rhysie. You made such a mess." Rhys whimpers apologetically and goes to lick it clean, but Jack shoves it harshly against his lips instead. Rhys shivers in shame as Jack smears his face with his own cum. "Filthy little slut." He berates. A hiccuppy sob leaves Rhys ,and he peeks miserably through Jack's fingers. Jack sighs and pacifies him with his thumb, popping it succinctly into his mouth. "Aw, c'mon. It's just a term of endearment, Rhysie. Don't you _like_ being my slut?"

Rhys nods dazedly, eyes glassy as he sucks on Jack's thumb. Jack's chuckle grows low in his throat, morphing into a growl. "Then you'll behave when I _fucking_ tell you to, _slut_." Rhys flinches at the sudden darkness in his voice, a wet startled gasp escaping as the thumb is yanked out of his mouth.

Jack reaches between his legs to free his own neglected cock from his pants, then, and jerks it slowly as he stares at Rhys' ruined face. The sight of him gets Jack going quick, working himself til he's throbbing against his own palm. His eyes trace hungrily down to Rhys' spread legs, his damp stomach, his twitching hole. The expression on Rhys' face is exquisite; brows knit in desperation, eyes brimming with tears, staring at him like he's dangling the world in front of his eyes.

Jack hisses through his teeth. "Fuck, you look good like this, baby. Got half a mind to keep you fucked up 24/7. Just make you my personal fucktoy." Rhys groans loudly. "Hah. _Thought_ you'd like that, you little whore."

He shakes his cock at him like a treat, Rhys' eyes tracking the movement like he's starving. "Bet you want this inside you, huh?" Rhys nods dizzily, and Jack pulls a sly grin at him. His knees part Rhys' thighs, his thick length prodding his entrance as he kneels in the cramped quarters of the chair. The toy's vibration is a pleasant muted buzz against the tip, but he never quite presses inside. Even as Rhys squirms against him, begging with all his heart for Jack to just _fuck_ him already. Jack sighs in bliss, drinking in Rhys' needy sounds as he fucks into his hand instead.

Jack doesn't last long against the heat of Rhys' oversexed body. When he comes, he cranes his neck up to capture his lips in a deep, possessive kiss, groaning into his mouth as cum spurts messily across Rhys' thighs and hole. There's a muffled whine of betrayal. Jack swallows it down.

He draws back up after a moment of ragged breaths, straightening his suit, surveying the wreckage. "You make a pretty picture, Rhys." He rumbles, stroking his jaw affectionately. "It's a shame I won't be around to enjoy it for a while."

Rhys lifts his head again, dazed shock in his eyes. "Wh-what?"

"Oh, you didn't know? I've got a meeting in five, baby." He pats him on the thigh and tucks his cock back into his pants. Cackles privately to himself at the incredulous expression Rhys pulls.

"Jack, you can't be serious-"

Rhys hushes quick as Jack grabs him squarely by the jaw, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You know I'm serious, baby." He squeezes his face between his fingers. "And y'know what? Just for that ungrateful attitude.."

Jack reaches into his pocket and there's a faint click, a heavy buzz, and a voice-breaking cry.

"You get to sit pretty right here for me, until I decide you've been good enough to fuck."

Rhys' cries fall on deaf ears while Jack turns on his heel, whistling happily as he makes his way for the door. If Rhys was very lucky and Jack was very generous, the meeting would be over in only two hours.

Maybe.


End file.
